


Lost Transmissions

by justabrain



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 03:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justabrain/pseuds/justabrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes communications officers pick up old transmissions, fragments of status reports lost in subspace. As a general rule, officers don't log every transmission that passes through their consoles, that would be impossible. But it seems wrong to let them go unheard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Transmissions

Uhura sighed and flipped to the other side of the bed. She closed her eyes again. Minutes — it must have been minutes, right? — slowly went by, like gel being squeezed through a hole much too small. Finally she gave up and swung around to sit on the edge of her bed. "Computer, half lights," she said tiredly, and she made a mental note to ask Dr. McCoy about sleep medications in the morning.

Blinking as her night vision disappeared, the communications officer stood and padded over to her work console. She paused after turning it on, then headed to her replicator. A few buttons later, a tall mug of hot chocolate appeared, topped with whipped cream and chocolate shavings. Uhura leaned down and inhaled its sweet, chocolatey smell, and found she couldn't resist tasting the cool, slightly vanilla, whipped cream as well. She smiled.

Mug in hand, Uhura sat down at the computer and opened her private log book. Her eyes idly skipped around the names and dates as she pulled up some communications recordings. _Cygnia Minor... USS Olympia... Bringloid V..._

Uhura would have said it was superstitious, if she believed in that sort of thing. She had learned of it from the first Communications officer she had served under: a transmission must never fall on deaf ears. If you ignore it, even if it's hundreds of years old, someone may ignore your transmission. Uhura preferred to think of the documenting as a memorial, of sorts, honoring past communications officers and their crews. And so, on the frequent nights when she found herself unable to sleep, she would sit here, often with a mug of tea or hot chocolate, and listen to the voices of ships and colonies who met with their fate — whether rescue or demise — long ago, and record their names. Some might say it's boring, or pointless, or creepy, but Uhura found it relaxing. Comforting even. 

She pressed play.

“…base 34, this is the Constitution prepa—… Repeat: This is the USS Constit—…” Uhura sighed and took a sip of her drink as the fragment faded into static. Pausing the recording to select her log, she entered _USS Constitution_ on the next line.

“Mayday! Ma—… Starbase 81 requesting immediate assista—… unknown alien force… shields down… already aboard—” A strangled scream, muted by the passage of time, faded once again to static. Uhura let out a breath. For the most part, the messages were mundane, day-to-day transmissions, but there were plenty of echoes of calls for help that had likely gone unanswered. 

“Computer,” she said softly, “What happened to Starbase 81?”

“Starbase 81 was destroyed by unknown causes. There were no survivors.”

She was silent for a moment, before entering _Starbase 81_ in her log. She paused, then added _Starbase 81 — destroyed_. She was about to continue the recording, when she yawned. Taking that as a cue to return to bed, she quickly finished her hot chocolate and turned off the console. As she lay down, she pulled the thin, but warm, blanket over her. Closing her eyes once again, she whispered, “Good night, Starbase 81,” and drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: http://ifeelbetterer.tumblr.com/post/73334924734/sometimes-communications-officers-pick-up-old


End file.
